The way echeverias resemble pine cones inspired my front-door holiday wreath. I used bronzy-gold painted pine cones the size of ping-pong balls and attached them, as well as the succulents, to a flat wreath form using hot glue. Surprisingly, hot glue doesn’t harm the plants. When doing holiday designs using succulents, be careful that the embellishments you choose don’t overwhelm plants with muted […]

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The way echeverias resemble pine cones inspired my front-door holiday wreath. I used bronzy-gold painted pine cones the size of ping-pong balls and attached them, as well as the succulents, to a flat wreath form using hot glue. Surprisingly, hot glue doesn’t harm the plants.

When doing holiday designs using succulents, be careful that the embellishments you choose don’t overwhelm plants with muted shades. It can be hard to find holiday items that aren’t vivid. That’s OK if the colors of the succulents are equally intense. I chose Echeveria ‘Lime and Chile’ because its soft green color went well with the bronzy gold of the pine cones, then accented them with smaller blue echeverias and reddish-gold Graptosedum ‘California Sunset’.

Keep in mind that a wreath is basically a frame. The viewer’s eye goes to the center, so put something there. I cut an aeonium from one of my greeting cards, because it was circular and went well with the colors of the wreath. You might use one of your own holiday cards, the word “Welcome,” or even a mirror.

Just for the fun of it, I also made succulent snowflakes…so simple! Any flower with a sturdy stem and a symmetrical shape will work—roses, for example. I chose a long-stemmed green aeonium from my garden because it contrasted perfectly with the red foam paper.

This must be the season for trees here at Gardening Gone Wild. Some of you may still be raking up leaves (and composting on site, right?), like I do with my Tupelo leaves – my most dependable tree for fall colors. Nyssa sylvatica is native to the East Coast but is a great garden tree almost […]

Some of you may still be raking up leaves (and composting on site, right?), like I do with my Tupelo leaves – my most dependable tree for fall colors. Nyssa sylvatica is native to the East Coast but is a great garden tree almost anywhere that gets 25 inches of rain.

I just prepared a photo gallery of American Trees, growing in gardens, native to North America, for an editor recently, and in doing so found myself astonished at the variety even in my own small collection. I was reminded in our vast country how different trees are, each adapting to its own ecosytem.

Mature trees indicate a sustainable habitat almost by definition, so please gardeners, if you have any space at all, plant a tree. So very many other plants, animals, and insects depend of native trees that we can genuinely help heal the earth by planting them. Read Doug Tallamys’ Bringing Nature Home to remind yourself of the importance of American Trees.

“Tree planting is always a utopian enterprise, it seems to me, a wager on a future the planter doesn’t necessarily expect to witness.” – Michael Pollan

Let’s see what other writers have said about trees.

“It is not so much for its beauty that the forest makes a claim upon men’s hearts, as for that subtle something, that quality of air that emanation from old trees, that so wonderfully changes and renews a weary spirit.” – Robert Louis Stevenson

“The planting of a tree, especially one of the long-living hardwood trees, is a gift which you can make to posterity at almost no cost and with almost no trouble, and if the tree takes root it will far outlive the visible effect of any of your other actions, good or evil.” George Orwell

So, then. Plant a tree for somebody else, for the next generation, for future habitats.

“A society grows great when old men plant trees whose shade they know they shall never sit in”. Greek Proverb

But in truth trees grow quickly in their native habitats. You will enjoy the shade of your own tree if you plant one native to your region – soon.

“The best time to plant a tree was twenty years ago. The next best time is now” – Chinese proverb

Gleditsia triacanthos ‘Imperial’, Honeylocust Tree; Arnold Arboretum

“Trees are poems that the earth writes upon the sky.” – Kahlil Gibran

“The tree is a slow, enduring force straining to win the sky.” – Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

“The trees, though not fully clothed, were in that delightful state when farther beauty is known to be at hand, and when, while much is actually given to the sight, more yet remains for the imagination.” – Jane Austen

“The wonder is that we can see these trees and not wonder more.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Garden writer and photographer Bren Haas, when interviewing me about my career and books, asked if I’d had a mentor for my photography or painting. I told her, “Light is a great teacher. I become transfixed when I see sunlight glittering on leaves, shadow patterns, or some lovely translucence. I’m uncomfortable in the presence of ‘wrong’ light—i.e. a windowless […]

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Don’t care for cactus? Maybe you’ve never seen it backlit!

Garden writer and photographer Bren Haas, when interviewing me about my career and books, asked if I’d had a mentor for my photography or painting. I told her, “Light is a great teacher. I become transfixed when I see sunlight glittering on leaves, shadow patterns, or some lovely translucence. I’m uncomfortable in the presence of ‘wrong’ light—i.e. a windowless room with fluorescent lighting.”

In “light” of this, I challenge you, dear GGWers, to pause for a moment to notice the illumination around you. Does it come from a window, lamp or electronic device? What would your environment be like, right now, with no artificial light source? I find it fascinating that light doesn’t weigh anything. You can’t touch it, hoard it, or give it away. Yet our lives depend on it. Without sunlight we—indeed, planet Earth—would cease.

Nasturtiums, admiring their own shadows.

Imagine living as our ancestors did, in nighttimes without light. They paid attention to phases of the moon, and if it was waning (or hidden by clouds), they hurried home before dusk. For centuries people relied on candles and—since a puff of wind could plunge them into darkness—lanterns. Nowadays we romanticize candlelight, but imagine using it to guide a horse down a rutted country road. Or preparing dinner by its dim glimmer.

Light, culturally and iconically, is identified with purity and goodness; darkness with danger and malevolence. People who have near-death experiences invariably recall seeing a shining light. It’s no wonder the ancients worshipped the sun. Even now, to imply the existence of a perfect, omniscient, omnipresent deity, one needs only to capitalize the word Light.

Sunlight reveals the veining of trumpet flowers.

When you photograph someone, you’re capturing the way light reveals their features. The best photographers know how to manipulate light, and prefer to shoot people or objects in a studio’s controlled setting. Outdoor photographers are at the mercy of the sun: there’s not much you can do if it’s too bright, or shadows are murky and unrevealing.

Professional garden photographer Saxon Holt talks a lot about light in his posts here on GGW, which are as entertaining as they are enLIGHTening. I defer to Saxon when it comes to photo tips, tutorials, and hard-won observations. However, I believe he’s yet to explain how to take a selfie that makes you look 20 years younger.

There’s sun behind me, streaming through a window, and a hanging lamp that brightens what otherwise would be a too-dark area. Putting yourself in shade and letting light into the lens will make your features less detailed—after all, light can be cruelly revealing. The lack of it on my face blurs lines and other imperfections. The viewer’s eye fills in the rest, correcting what’s unseen and subconsciously improving it. (I’m not kidding. And thank you.)

So, did I plan it that way? No. This was a happy accident. The main reason I chose it to show you is the tank top, which I simply had to have (can you guess why?) It’s also the portrait shot on my @DebraLBaldwin Instagram page, where I post photos of my specialty, succulent plants. Saxon also is on Instagram, (@SaxonHolt) often showing rapturous photos of the countryside near his home in Northern CA, taken on walks with photogenic Border Collie, Kona—whom I suspect he has trained to sit and stay.

Three of Saxon’s Instagram posts.

But canine photo props are another story. (Hey Saxon, how about telling us how and why you use Kona to enhance your photos?)

On a visit last week and again yesterday to Dilworth Park, Philadelphia’s outstanding green space abutting City Hall, I was delighted to discover a newly constructed pop-up garden. As many of you know, I am a big fan of Bryant Park in New York City and have written a few articles about it: You can […]

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On a visit last week and again yesterday to Dilworth Park, Philadelphia’s outstanding green space abutting City Hall, I was delighted to discover a newly constructed pop-up garden.

As many of you know, I am a big fan of Bryant Park in New York City and have written a few articles about it: You can check them out here and here.

Dilworth Park, renovated in 2014, is a 120,557 square foot space that has become a multi-faceted public meeting place: It consists of well executed perennial plantings with tree groves, colorful seating areas, and a seasonal ice skating rink.

When it first opened in 2014, after a major renovation that cost $155 million, it was met with less than stellar reviews as written about in Philadelphia Magazine (September 2014):

Architecture critic Inga Saffron of The Philadelphia Inquirer weighed in with an analysis of the park, a park which she says really isn’t a park at all:

“They’ve reconstructed the space in front of Philadelphia’s palatial City Hall, furnished it with a cafe, a high-tech spray fountain and movable chairs, and rebranded it Dilworth Park. But the vast granite prairie is still very much a plaza, with all the weaknesses the word implies.”

In the end, Saffron declares that the “aesthetic is all wrong for a city eager to remake itself for an expanding creative class.” Dilworth Park is, she writes, “a suit in a jeans-and-t-shirt world.”

Stu Bykofsky of The Daily News had this to say on his FB account:

“Visited today and was underwhelmed. If it was “barren” before the $55 million makeover, that nice (in good weather) fountain takes up most of the space in front of City Hall. There’s a cafe? I didn’t see it. All the trees are relegated to the perimeter. You can walk through the fountain, which is neat, and the kids loved it, but I have a feeling most of that $55 [million] was on construction, not on appearances. Yes, it’s a bit better, but if it is supposed to be the new town “gathering place” it might have had more “wow” factor.”

Perhaps it was the addition of this year’s newest addition, The Capital Garden Maze, that transformed the park from what was described above to what I would now describe as festive and playful.

The America’s Garden Capital Maze took over the patch of grass at Dilworth Park during the winter season as part of a $300,000 grant from the William Penn Foundation. It was designed by Groundswell Design Group, the same firm behind other iconic pop-up public spaces like Spruce Street Harbor Park and the Blue Cross RiverRink Winterfest. The maze is festooned with willow-branch archways and well chosen and colorful plantings, all in raised beds.

The Made in Philadelphia Holiday Market, featuring 35 local vendors, is still in the process of being constructed. There is even a lovely old fashioned merry-go-round on one side of the courtyard. Like the Christmas Village, which will be located in City Hall’s inner courtyard this year, the holiday market will remain open until Christmas Eve.

Is this Philadelphia’s answer to Bryant Park? Not quite. But contrary to what the critics have written, I feel strongly that Dilworth Park is a positive addition to the outdoor spaces in the City of Brotherly Love.

After all, it was no easy feat to build an appealing public space around the elaborately ornate, city block long, Philadelphia City Hall, built in the late 19th century.

Whether you’re a Philadelphian who is looking for something to do with the kids on a weekend or an out-of-town visitor, I highly recommend a visit to Dilworth Park!

If you enjoyed this article, please share with friends and colleagues on social media: it’s important to get the word out and it’s good karma!

Also, you only have a few more week to take advantage of my 1000 FREE Book and Course Giveaway. We are almost sold out!! To take advantage of receiving a free copy of my book, Digging Deep:Unearthing Your Creative Roots Through Gardening and my 3 part online course, click on HERE.

And in honor of Thanksgiving, I’ve priced the e-book version of Digging Deep: Unearthing Your CreativeRoots Through Gardening on Kindle for only .99. The price will never be this low again so grab it while you can!!

There was so much beauty at Waterwise Botanicals nursery near San Diego during the recent Fall Garden Party, I’m going to let my images speak for themselves. Cue the rhapsodic music! During the event, I did impromptu plant-pot pairings. The nursery gave away hundreds of 1 gal. succulents to guests Waterwise Botanicals nursery is a terrific destination nursery in Southern CA, […]

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There was so much beauty at Waterwise Botanicals nursery near San Diego during the recent Fall Garden Party, I’m going to let my images speak for themselves. Cue the rhapsodic music!

Columnar cacti, haloed by late afternoon sun

A tricholobivia in one of the display gardens has formed quite a colony

Masses of coppertone stonecrop and graptosedum, in a display garden

Aeonium ‘Zwartkop’, backlit

Succulent euphorbias, kalanchoes and yuccas in the main display garden

I love it when local artisans come to brainstorm design ideas for succulents

This display garden suggests the desert in bloom

A succulent holiday tree, mainly of sempervivums and sedums was a workshop project

Just when I think I’ve seen enough succulent topped pumpkins, one comes along that’s beyond gorgeous

A miniature succulent garden at one of the workshops

It was fun pairing succulents with art pots, like this fish with the living stone plant, pleiospilos

I love the geometry and textures of columnar cacti, especially when illuminated by the sun

Another workshop was about planting driftwood with succulents

I’m obsessed with this red cryptobergia bromeliad, a colorful low-water companion for succulents

An Echeveria cultivar tough enough to grow in the open garden

Another shot of Aeonium ‘Zwartkop’, backlit. Those filamented edges!

A colorful dish garden suggests a miniature landscape

Nursery manager Tom Jesch repurposed a toy truck as a planter for succulents

During the event, I did impromptu plant-pot pairings.

The nursery gave away hundreds of 1 gal. succulents to guests

A green Echeveria cultivar formed a large mound in one of the display gardens

Silvery blue Echeveria peacockii

Waterwise Botanicals nursery is a terrific destination nursery in Southern CA, specializing in succulents and low-water companion plants for gardens and landscapes. The next big event there is the Succulent Celebration, held annually in late spring.

I have always felt that too few folks take the time to understand the truth about trees. So I was especially delighted when I read and gazed at Saxon’s outstanding photos earlier this week in his post, How to Photograph Trees. I felt as if Saxon’s post was an early birthday gift to me. Yes, today […]

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I have always felt that too few folks take the time to understand the truth about trees.

So I was especially delighted when I read and gazed at Saxon’s outstanding photos earlier this week in his post, How to Photograph Trees.

I felt as if Saxon’s post was an early birthday gift to me. Yes, today is my birthday. And if I could ask for one thing from every individual on this earth is that you walk outside, slow down, take some deep breaths, awaken your senses, and spend some time relating to a tree.

You see, since I was a child, I’ve felt a deep bond with trees and intrinsically understood that communing with them helped me to open up to my authentic, wiser self (as I wrote about in this article).

Although I never spoke about it while growing up, I knew in my heart that trees were communicating with me in their own way and that they had a secret language that allowed them to speak with each other as well.

So, recently when I came across the book,The Hidden Life of Trees written by Peter Wohlleben, a long time forester, I grabbed a copy of it.

From the beginning, the author whetted my appetite with phrases like this: “When you know that trees experience pain and have memories and that tree parents live together with their children, then you can no longer just chop them down and disrupt their lives with large machines.”

Not only did this gem of a book validate what I intrinsically knew, but it also catapulted my understanding and appreciation of their extraordinary sensitivity, their strong community bonds and support of each other, and their sheer strength and elegance.

Here are some key takeaway concepts:

1.Trees need to communicate. Electrical impulses that pass through the roots of trees (and move at a very slow rate of 1/3 of an inch per second) are one of the ways of communicating.

An example: “If a giraffe starts eating an African acacia, the tree releases a chemical into the air that signals that a threat is at hand. As the chemical drifts through the air and reaches other trees, they smell it and are warned of the danger. Even before the giraffe reaches them, they begin producing toxic chemicals.”

2. Trees are incredibly social. In a forest, they care for each other “sometimes even going so far as to nourish the stump of a felled tree for centuries after it was cut down by feeding its sugars and other nutrients, and so keeping it alive.”

3. Trees communicate and share food because they need each other...to the extent that they even nurse and nourish sick individuals until they recover.

“It takes a forest to create a micro-climate suitable for tree growth and sustenance. So it’s not surprising that isolated trees have far shorter lives than those living connected together in forests.”

“It appears that nutrient exchanges and helping neighbors in times of need is the rule, and this leads to the conclusion that forests are superorganisms with interconnections much like ant colonies.”

4. When trees are weakened or are loners (not part of a community), it appears that they lose theirconversational skills and are no longer able to defend themselves.

“A tree’s silence could be because of a serious illness or, perhaps, the loss of its fungal network, which would leave the tree completely cut off from the latest news. The tree no longer registers approaching disaster, and the doors are open for the caterpillar and beetle buffet. The loners I just mentioned are similarly susceptible–they might look healthy, but they have no idea what is going on around them.”

5. The rate of photosynthesis is the same for all trees. Students at the Institute for Environmental Research at RWTH Aachen discovered that “trees in undisturbed beech forests synchronize their performance so that they are all equally successful….even though each beech tree grows in a unique location, and conditions can vary greatly in just a few yards.”

6. It takes a community for trees to be strong. “Trees well-being depends on their community, and when the supposedly feeble trees disappear, the others lose as well. When that happens, the forest is no longer a single closed unit. Hot sun and swirling winds can now penetrate to the forest floor and disrupt the moist, cool climate. Even strong trees get sick a lot over the course of their lives. When this happens, they depend on their weaker neighbors for support. If they are no longer there, then all it takes is what would once have been a harmless insect attack to seal the fate even of giants.”

So the next time you take a walk in a forest, woodland, or grove of trees, be quiet and listen closely…and perhaps you will hear the trees communicating with each other!

Please note: Everything in quotes are words written by the author taken from his book, The Hidden Life of Trees

A recent visit to the Arnold Arboretum in Boston provided a glorious opportunity to photograph trees. After all, the word “arbor” is Latin for tree and arboreta are collections of trees. What better a place to go to work with my camera. I confess I was once uninterested in traditional arboretums because there tends to be little structure to […]

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Gymnocladus dioicus, Kentucky Coffeetree; Arnold Arboretum

A recent visit to the Arnold Arboretum in Boston provided a glorious opportunity to photograph trees. After all, the word “arbor” is Latin for tree and arboreta are collections of trees. What better a place to go to work with my camera.

I confess I was once uninterested in traditional arboretums because there tends to be little structure to define a garden. But now I have learned to appreciate the simple unique beauty of trees, and there is no better place to study them than a good arboretum such as the Arnold.

Oxydendron arboreum – Sourwood tree; Arnold Arboretum

A tree that has had the chance to grow up in the care of an Arboretum is a chosen specimen, on display to represent an entire family of brothers and sisters that may live nowhere near the collection. An arboretum will have planted them with room to grow and reach their full stature.

Gleditsia triacanthos ‘Skyline, Honeylocust Tree; Arnold Arboretum

Just as snowflakes and fingerprints are all different, every tree is different from every other tree. Each specie has its own signature DNA of leaf shape, bark structure, and branching within its native habitat with phenotypic distinction. Each grows a bit differently in every microclimate, so that by the time any given tree is mature it is utterly unique.

Quercus bicolor – Swamp White Oak tree; Arnold Arboretum

Looking up at a tree to see the branching, scarring, and subtle growth patterns one can imagine its history, what it has seen, what birds might have visited, how many squirrels have jumped from limb to limb, and what plants it has already outlived.

Trees tend to be hard to photograph simply because they are large and nearly impossible to separate from the landscape. My favorite trees, the Oaks of California, can often be found alone in the landscape, as seen in a post on my PhotoBotanic site, but most trees are mingled into woodlands or crowded into gardens and are really hard to see in their full magnificence.

Here is a grove of Oak trees in the Arnold Arboretum.

Note that I want to photograph one specific tree. I look for any opportunity to isolate trees to show their shape, but stepping back far enough to see the whole tree and its branch structure brings in all the others.

Instead, I find I can walk right up under a tree and look straight up from the vantage point of a few inches away from the trunk.

Quercus alba, White Oak tree, Arnold Arboretum

A tripod is always critical in making these compositions, though I confess, I usually get a crick in the neck straining to look into the viewfinder.

From across the garden, I saw this Green Ash tree with butter yellow fall foliage.

Fraxinus pennsylvanica ‘Vinton’, Green Ash tree (tallest)

I walked up underneath it, both to isolate the tree and to help make the autumn foliage glow.

Fraxinus pennsylvanica ‘Vinton’, Green Ash tree

Usually, I prefer a vertical format so that the trunk of the tree leads up into the composition – and the tree towers as a tree should.

Trees are tall after all, so a vertical usually makes sense, but sometimes when a tree has an especially nice branch pattern only a horizontal can really show the display. Here is a vertical and horizontal of the same honey locust tree:

Gleditsia triacanthos ‘Imperial’

Gleditsia triacanthos ‘Imperial’, Honeylocust Tree; Arnold Arboretum

Looking up at the trees also allows the leaves to glow because of the back light. This effect will happen even if there is not strong, sunny light in the canopy, because to open up the shadows, the photographer is effectively overexposing – which will make the leaves bright anyway.

In order to get a proper exposure to show off the bark and still have color in the sky I usually will underexpose the original digital file so that I can hold the highlights and color in the sky. Then in the postproduction, with the computer, I will open up the shadows.

Juglans nigra – Black Walnut tree; Arnold Arboretum

Juglans nigra – Black Walnut tree; Arnold Arboretum

This is something I could never do in years of shooting with film. The digital era has opened up a new way of expressing trees in photographs.

Gymnocladus dioicus, Kentucky Coffeetree; Arnold Arboretum

I only had time for one day of shooting at the Arnold while in Boston, but it was a glorious day. These are trees I never see in California, I felt honored to be in their presence.

What do Halloween and succulents have in common? They’re sometimes creepy and delightfully sinister. I’m challenging my Instagram followers to post photos on a page I created: #scarysucculentsdlb. On Oct. 31, my 8-year-old grandson will choose the creepiest, scariest images. Four winners will be notified Nov. 1 and can select as a prize one […]

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When I posted this photo of bird-eaten cactus fruit on Facebook last Halloween, people unfriended me because they thought it was roadkill.

What do Halloween and succulents have in common? They’re sometimes creepy and delightfully sinister.

My publisher ships only to the US and Canada, but that doesn’t mean you can’t participate. If you win, in addition to bragging rights, you can designate a friend in the US or Canada to receive the book.

To enter: If you’re already on Instagram, great! Follow me @DebraLBaldwin, leave a comment after one of my Creepy-Scary Succulent posts, and tag a friend to help get the word out. Then on your own page, post a photo of a sinister looking succulent (examples follow). Add the hash tag #scarysucculentsdlb so it’ll appear with the rest.

The Ware Collection of Blaschka Glass Models of Plants, popularly know as the Glass Flowers is in the Harvard Museum of Natural History, a fantastic, fantastic museum in Boston. The exhibit has recently been cleaned and refurbished and with new cases with crystal clear glass and organized by plant family to enhance it as a teaching tool […]

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The Ware Collection of Blaschka Glass Models of Plants, popularly know as the Glass Flowers is in the Harvard Museum of Natural History, a fantastic, fantastic museum in Boston.

The exhibit has recently been cleaned and refurbished and with new cases with crystal clear glass and organized by plant family to enhance it as a teaching tool – today for museum goers, but originally for the students.

The collection was started for Professor George Lincoln Goodale, founder of the Botanical Museum, who wanted life-like representations of the plant kingdom for teaching botany. At the time, only crude papier-maché or wax models were available.

He found Czech glassworkers Leopold and Rudolf Blaschka from a family of glass makers dating back to the fifteenth century, and between 1886 to 1936 they created glass models of 700 species of flowering and non- flowering plants.

Glass Flowers Exhibit Harvard Museum of Natural History

Yes, they are all glass. Every single bit of these flowers including the root balls, stems, leaves, and even dirt are made of glass. Many visitors, including this one, found it incredible, and I often heard gasps of disbelief, one person assuring his companion that much of it was silk.

I won’t go into each description here – I am on vacation after all, but imagine these as teaching tools! Each specimen has multiple parts, with details of the flowers, roots, and cross sections of flower parts.

Lupinus mutabilis – glass flower parts details

These masters of glass knew how to observe – many details magnified many times life size, such as the lupine pollen grain above, magnified 1500 times. Or my favorite, below – a grass flower of Northern Panic-grass (Panicum boreale).

Panicum boreale flower detail, Glass Flowers Exhibit

Next is a flower detail of Tetraneuris scaposa, Stemmy Four-nerve Daisy – all glass.

Keeping in mind that these were teaching tools, there are many glass models of insect pollinators showing bees, flies, moths, butterflies, and their adaptations to particular flowers.

Bee pollinated flowers at Glass Flowers Exhibit

Keep reminding yourself: these are glass !

Bee on Scarlet Runner Bean – Glass Flowers Exhibit

I wonder how the glass blowers knew how this pollution process worked:

Fly pollinated flowers – Glass Flowers Exhibit

No doubt these glass artisans had taxidermy samples to work with, such as these flies:

Glass Flowers Exhibit, Harvard Museum of Natural History

Even examples of fly larva:

Insect larva, Glass Flowers Exhibit

Pardon the lights reflecting on the class case of the beautiful Scarlet Runner bean. I wanted to show the entire display.

Glass Flowers Exhibit, Harvard Museum of Natural History

The cases are generally displayed well and the overhead lights are well placed to accent each specimen, though reflections are difficult for photography.

Glass Flowers Exhibit Harvard Museum of Natural History

My only regret about the exhibit is the dim lighting that does not allow the viewer to see the translucent quality of the glass. (For illustrating this article I have brightened many of the photos.) I am sure the curators don’t want strong light that would deteriorate the colors over time, but I missed seeing the stained glass effect of glowing glass.

Many of the cases are mounted on the walls like the one above, so it is possible for the photographer to find occasional opportunities to shoot up into the flowers to get a glow. Note the yellow flowering Mexican Tulip Poppy above and below:

Mexican Tulip Flower in Glass Flowers Exhibit

I also found that I could avoid the glare and see some of the plants better by kneeling on the floor and shooting directly into the case, such as for this cactus. I wonder when this cactus might have flowered in Boston for the Blaschkas to have worked with it ?

Cactus in Glass Flowers Exhibit Harvard Museum of Natural History

It is a phenomenal exhibit and it can only be seen at Harvard’s Natural History Museum. The flowers are too fragile to ever travel, but are marvels of glass making and wondrous teaching tools even if more than a century old. I only wonder how many might have been damaged as they were being handled so long ago.

Blue Pea – Lathyrus magellanicus, Glass Flowers Exhibit

The craftwork would be nearly impossible to duplicate today but the sense of art is timeless, many rivaling any botanic illustration – but these are real !

A garden club at which I’ll be speaking later this month asked if I’d donate “an arrangement for the raffle.” Sure, why not? I have several self-imposed criteria: It has to be a “wow” so attendees will buy tickets; it needs to be innovative and incorporate succulents; and it should be autumn-themed. Inspired by numerous colorful succulents in my garden, […]

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A garden club at which I’ll be speaking later this month asked if I’d donate “an arrangement for the raffle.” Sure, why not?

I have several self-imposed criteria: It has to be a “wow” so attendees will buy tickets; it needs to be innovative and incorporate succulents; and it should be autumn-themed. Inspired by numerous colorful succulents in my garden, I decided to make a succulent wreath featuring fall colors.

…and another with blue-gray succulents such as Kalanchoe tomentosa (which has slender, fuzzy leaves), small echeveria rosettes, and Lampranthus deltoides (a type of ice plant).

For the wreath base I used a thin, flat, donut-shaped wood circle from a craft store. I hot-glued sphagnum moss to it, wrapped it with florist’s wire to better secure the moss…

…then glued cuttings onto it. First I created a corsage-like cluster at 7:00…

…then I overlapped cuttings to complete the circle, tucking each one’s stem beneath the previous rosette. I used enough glue to make sure cuttings were firmly attached to the wood beneath the moss.

Remarkably, succulents aren’t harmed by hot glue, in fact, stems will send roots through dried glue into the moss.

The wreath needs a few hours of morning sun, then bright shade for the remainder of the day. Sun is necessary to keep it colorful; in too little light, the orange and yellow cuttings will revert to green. In too little light, growth will be stretched and spindly. However, too much sun may scorch the plants. The cuttings I selected will need frost protection. If you live where temps drop below freezing, use hardy succulents such as sempervivums, fine-leaved sedums, and ice plants.

To keep new little roots hydrated, the wreath should be spritzed twice a week to moisten the moss. As cuttings grow, the wreath will gradually deconstruct. Older succulent wreaths tend to look like they’re exploding. This one is about a year old:

When this happens (or for that matter, at any time) the wreath can be planted intact in a pot or garden bed, enabling cuttings to root into soil. Or it can be pulled apart and the cuttings replanted.

Ideally, the person who takes it home has a garden gate, wall, or front door on which to display it. Regardless, it also looks good as a table centerpiece. (Any wood surfaces should be protected from moisture.) To transition it into the holidays, they might add a few red, gold and green glass balls.